When Adam and I went to England several years ago to visit his sister and her family, her youngest son was still in diapers. He'd have huge, explosive poos that messed up his entire outfit, leaving us all wondering how so much poo had managed to escape the confines of his diapers. It seemed that every couple hours we'd smell "the smell" and knew it was time for baby to get his diaper changed. I've baby-sat the majority of my teen and adult life, so while not my favorite thing, I know poo is just something one must deal with when caring for children. Adam, on the other hand, was pretty disgusted. I remember him asking his sister how she dealt with constantly changing a dirty diaper. She looked him square in the eye and said, "Adam, I love my baby; I love his poo." Adam has never forgotten that little life lesson, and neither have I.
I've only told a very few people my dirty little secret, but I guess I will air it for the masses now. When Shabbi was in her last, ailing year, she had a hard time taking a poo. Not because she was constipated, but because she didn't always remember to poo in the appropriate places (aka, outdoors). So she'd wander around outside for endless minutes, needing to poo, farting incessantly, but never actually...well, performing. Her little butthole showed signs that she needed to go, but she wouldn't always push it out. In fact, too often she'd wait to do that until we were back inside!
So...I one day realized that I might be able to 'help things along' for her. You might remember my anal-gland-squeezing prowess, a skill I picked up from having worked at a dog grooming shop one year. Well, I decided to put that skill to work, to see if it might help my little girl clean out her intestines. After pumping the outside of her anus with my fingers a couple times, she started to push the poo out almost on command. It soon became the sure-fire way to have Shabbi poo outside before I went to bed at night, knowing that I wouldn't wake up to the smell of poo in my bedroom, or to the sounds of her whining to go out at 2am. I pretty much used this method (not every time--oftentimes she could poo on her own) whenever I needed to until the day she left us. I will say, though, that once Adam was back in town, he left the anal squeezes to me--just not his bag, I guess.
I only bring up these stories because of recent events. Kika's most recent foray into people food--she and Greg House's tag-teaming to get the crackers from the cupboard--left her bloated, a bit disoriented and unable to walk normally. I was pretty worried about her, because she drank so much water, I knew those crackers were just expanding inside her little belly. She was ripping stinky ones every few seconds. That first night, she (thankfully!) squeezed a long sausage out all on her own, but was still pretty gassy when we went to bed. Yesterday, she wasn't nearly as bloated, but was still gassy and uncomfortable. By evening, she still hadn't taken a poo (despite the banana I had given her at lunchtime to help move things along). So...I decided to revisit the old tried-and-true method that had worked so well with Shabbigirl. Voila! Evidently it worked with Kika, too! She seemed much happier (and lighter) once it was all out of her, and she slept soundly through the night (as did I--no Dutch oven to deal with!). This morning, she was spry and almost back to her normal self, although still having a wee bit trouble walking. But her spirits and temperament were back.
I know this probably isn't the post most of you wanted to read today, but hey, I'm opening myself up to you, folks! Now you know something about me you didn't know before (or maybe more than you ever wanted to know?). Love my Kika, love her poo.
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